


I Don't Know What I'm Doing

by Kate_Reid



Series: Never Be Your Curse [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Character Study, F/M, Introspection, Pre-Relationship, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-20 10:50:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15532626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kate_Reid/pseuds/Kate_Reid
Summary: Our heroes go about their lives after they part ways. Rey is contented; Kylo is tormented.Her reaction plays over and over in his mind as he walks to his building. His phone is in his hand, and he keeps willing it to vibrate with her text.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place immediately after [If Our Paths Forget to Cross.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15354603)

Gorgeous moodboard by [my dear Flawless_Sorcerer_Supreme.](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flawless_Sorcerer_Supreme)

 

 

****Rey pops her earbuds back in after going through the turnstile.  She laughs quietly to herself as Charli XCX’s “Break the Rules” rings in her ears.  Climbing the steps out of the station, she takes a deep breath and fights her wide smile.  She loses that battle.

She gives in and grins; she figures she’s entitled.  How often do movies happen in real life? But there she’d been, fighting off muggers in the subway, back-to-back with the man she’d mentally dubbed “Subway Prince.”  Some real Jackie Chan shit!

And to think, Rey had figured there was no way of coming back from her clumsy fall the other day.  She’d thought that any sort of mystique she might have held for the Subway Prince--if he’d even thought of her at all--had been ruined by her inelegant sprawl on the nasty train floor, punctuated by whatever sad “oof” she may have let out as she fell.

Rey’s Subway Prince--no, _Kylo_. She knows his name now and should probably begin using it, lest she embarrass herself again.  _Kylo_ had held out his hand, and she’d taken it. His hand had been callused and cool in hers as she shook it.

“Well, now, you _have_  to come to Snoke’s for a drink.  It’ll be on the house,” he’d said.

She’d laughed.  “Have your finest Champagne ready, then!”

“I will,” he’d said, far more serious than she’d been.  Did he ever smile?

“Well, how could I not cash in on that?” She’d offered him a smile, and he’d reciprocated by once again allowing one corner of his mouth to turn up a bit.  

“Exactly.  Please do.”  His eyes were so intense on her, a banked fire with small shining embers.   He’d gone on, still regarding her with the same smouldering gaze. “I know how this sounds, but I’d just feel better knowing you got home safe.  Please take my number and just text me that you’re okay once you’ve locked your door. You can block your number if you want; I’ll know it’s you.”

He’d taken a tiny sketchbook from his pocket, torn out a page, scrawled on it with a charcoal, then pressed it into her hand.

Once she’s up the stairs and inside her tiny flat off Darklighter Boulevard, she sends  a text.

 _I’m home and I’m fine._ She doesn’t block her number.

 

*******

 

He’s actually pretty far outside himself.  And he really, really hadn’t expected to be.  Yes, he’d admired her all week. But he’d thought of her as unattainable, a picture to be admired in a museum, a sculpture to smile to secretly in passing.  

So, he doesn’t know what to think as he gets  his stuff together, walks out of the subway station, rides the escalator up to Pellaeon Street, all with his nerves sizzling.  What was this, tonight?

Frankly, he’s got no idea.  Had he really fought back to back with the woman he’d been calling “Subway Princess” inside his head?  

Well, the truth was that he had.  He might be overly invested, he knows.  It had taken the breath right out of him when he saw her fall the other day. The way she’d clambered to stand up by herself before anyone, himself included, could offer her assistance?  That had given him pause.

This was a woman who was used to standing on her own two feet--very literally.  He could tell that before he’d even spoken to her, offered her his hand, helped her pick up her things when she fell.  Even as he’d wanted to help her, he couldn’t help but admire the speed with which she got herself upright again.

Of course, though, he’d also been awed by her tonight.  She’d stood up beside him, seemingly without a second thought, and acted immediately. She’d fought fearlessly and honorably to help him dispatch the red hoodies.  

Her reaction plays over and over in his mind as he walks to  his building. His phone is in his hand, and he keeps willing it to vibrate with her text.  

Just as he’s waving at his doorman, her text finally comes through. Rey is home and she’s safe.   And she hasn’t blocked her number.

 

*******

 

Rey actually prays she doesn’t see Kylo on her disaster of a Monday morning.  She missed her first alarm, so she’s running a little late and doesn’t feel like she’s looking her best, so she breathes a sigh of relief when she doesn’t see him on her train.

She’s able to collapse into a seat and listen to her music and worry about today’s meeting in peace.

If only Amilyn hadn’t sounded so damn ominous. Rey likes her boss, really, even if the lavender-haired older woman is a little intimidating and inscrutable.

_\-------_

_Rey had done well enough in school to have a few choices for employment.  She hadn’t hesitated to choose Holdo and D’Acy Architects. Rey had liked the idea of joining a woman-owned firm._

_Amilyn’s hair had been teal when Rey had her interview.  Rey remembered the interview being like no other she’d had.  Rey had become sadly accustomed to men in suits trying to trip her up, gotten used to having structural engineering explained to her by men with business degrees, and had simply gotten discouraged. But her interview at Holdo, D’Acy had been eye-opening._

_Rey didn’t feel judged about her clothing._

_Rey didn’t feel like she was being rated on some invisible fuckability scale._

_Rey felt like she was being considered solely on what she said, on her education, and on the work in her portfolio._

_The two older women hadn’t beaten around the bush.  They’d offered her the job on the spot. She’d nearly gushed to Amilyn and Larma that she’d take whatever job they wanted to give her._

_\-------_

Rey’s glad she was able to reassure herself with reminiscences.  She has her job for a reason, and Amilyn and Larma don’t hesitate to tell her if she’s fucked up.  Today’s meeting is probably something other than a “Rey, you’re toast” meeting.

She steels her nerves and wills herself to get it together as she exits the train.

 

*******

 

Monday morning is something else.  He’d held out a little hope that he might see her.  But he’s apparently a little too early or too late to see her.  That’s fine. He doesn’t like today’s assignment and doesn’t want to corrupt her with himself on his way to do what needs to be done, especially because he hates what he needs to do.  He’d never wanted to be a thug or a minion. But here he is, about to get off the train and act the heavy.

Is that the tradeoff?  He smirks sadly down at his crisp white shirt and black suit. These aren’t his ass-kicking clothes, but they’ll have to do.

Kylo had always pictured shakedowns taking place under cover of night.  Maybe he’d seen too many movies. But Snoke had taught him that they’re actually best during the light of day--showing up to someone’s workplace impeccably dressed and speaking softly is apparently far more impactful than a hoodied confrontation in a dark alley or parking garage.

Snoke actually hadn’t been wrong.  When you show up in an expensive suit and talk extremely quietly, but politely, all doors open for you.

And so he finds himself on the way to Derek “Hobbie” Klivian.  The name is familiar to Kylo; he knows that Klivian is down on his luck--if he’d ever even had any luck to begin with--and it’s time for Snoke to collect.  

Kylo shuts out one of the reasons he knows that name as he rises in the elevator of the building where Klivian works.  He’s unsurprised as the receptionist lets him back without an appointment. Kylo’s used to this. His manner is pleasant enough and he looks good enough in his suits that nobody ever asks him any questions.

This is how he’s gotten in to see Klivian, who shakes and sweats before him.  Kylo speaks in his lowest timbre, apparently successfully, as Klivian looks utterly terrified, stammering out promises as Kylo stands, impassive.

Kylo detests his job sometimes.

 

*******

 

Rey makes it into her office right on the dot of nine, so she isn’t really late.  She just doesn’t like this frazzled, rushed feeling, especially on a day like today. Her meeting is actually scheduled for an hour after she’s set to come in--surely, if Amilyn and Larma had felt they needed to light Rey up, they’d have been kind enough to do it first thing.

Well, there’s no point in catastrophizing, she reasons, as she logs into her computer to check her email.  She answers the relevant things, delegates other things, and works as she normally would until her notification pops up, telling her that she has a meeting in five minutes.  Rey gives herself a glance in the mirror she hides in her drawer, adjusts her hair a bit, takes a deep breath, then stands up and leaves her office.

When she opens the door to the conference room, she sees Amilyn, who must have just gotten a touch-up on her lavender hair, Larma, looking as regular and no-nonsense as always--and a third woman.  The third woman’s graying brown hair is braided intricately over her head; she smiles at Rey as she enters the room.

“Amilyn, Larma,”  She smiles and greets her bosses by their first names, as they’ve told her they preferred.  The third woman, though . . . “Mayor Organa; I’m honored,” Rey breathes, attempting to stop her mind from racing.

“It’s so good to meet you, Ms. Antilles.”  The Mayor rises to shake Rey’s hand before Rey sits down across from her.

Rey is gobsmacked and concentrates her effort onto pulling out a chair and sitting down at the table.  

Rey’s face must have betrayed her bewilderment.  

Amilyn speaks first.  “Rey, relax. I can see how high your shoulders are.”  Amilyn is telling her to chill! She must chill!

Rey breathes out and makes a conscious effort to relax herself, “Thank you, Amilyn,” she grinds out, trying to look comfortable while she’s still tight with tension.

The Mayor speaks next, surprising Rey.  “Ms. Antilles, I’m very pleased to tell you that your design for Ahch-To Tower was selected.  We’d like to have a small ceremony to announce it.”

Rey is utterly shocked.  She’d worked on that design in her free time--lots of late nights in her little flat, enjoying her work even as she knew it was a pipe dream and that she’d never be picked for such an important project.

She’s got no idea what to say to her bosses and _the_ _actual_ _Mayor of Coruscant City._  Her design had been an utter fantasy, half-based on her imaginings of buildings from the _Dune_  series.  

She forces her mouth to form coherent words.  “No, Mayor Organa, the honor is mine. I--don’t know what to say.  I’m so sorry.”

The Mayor immediately puts her at ease.  “No need to know what to say. Your work has spoken for you.”

 

*******

 

Kylo has time to go back home and get a couple hours of sleep after his early appointment with Klivian, so he pulls off his suit, secretly reveling in the wrinkles he knows will be left with it puddled on his floor, knowing that Snoke would disapprove of Kylo’s disrespect for the fancy clothes.  He collapses into his bed and sleeps _hard_  until midafternoon when he’s due for his bartender shift at Snoke’s.

He rises naked from his bed, stumbles into the shower, and scrubs himself as if to remove the stench of what he’s done, what he’s still doing.  When his skin is red and stinging, he gives it up as a lost cause, rinses off and exits the shower, toweling himself dry and gazing into his closet.

This, of course, is a joke in itself.  His wardrobe doesn’t have a huge amount of variety.  Kylo selects the least faded of his black t-shirts and the black jeans that he feels make his ass look the best. _This_ , of course, sends him into another spiral of wondering what his life has become as he sits at the side of the bed, shirtless, pants halfway up his legs.

Kylo snaps out of it when he realizes that he’s got no time to obsess.  He pulls up his pants, puts on his shirt, buckles his boots, and leaves his apartment, trying to squash the hope that his Subway Princess--no, _Rey,_  will come to collect on that glass of fancy fizz he’d promised her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rey and Kylo continue to go about their work.

Rey fizzed quietly all day after her meeting with her bosses and the Mayor. Larma had asked her to keep the news under her hat, even with her co-workers. So Rey had stayed in her office, only popping out to get the occasional cup of tea or go to the restroom.

She felt strange, shutting herself up in her office when she’d normally be much more social with her coworkers, who she genuinely liked. 

It wasn’t like she didn’t have enough to do, though. The Mayor had asked for a fancy rendering of her design to be shown at the unveiling ceremony, which would be next week. Because of the secrecy surrounding the project, Rey would need to do it herself instead of handing it off to one of their CAD people. She’d missed CAD, really, and she worked hard on it, modeling and fleshing out details that she never thought she’d have the chance to.

Rey had thrown herself so thoroughly into her work that she was startled when Larma knocked on her office door. 

“Really, Rey, I’m loath to discourage hard work, but I must think that you’ve a nice bed at home that’s preferable to your desk chair?” The corners of Larma’s eyes crinkled as she regarded Rey’s laser focus on the project on her screen.

“Wha--oh, wow, yes, Larma.” Rey surfaced slowly from her rendering to smile at her boss, who she knew was always the last to leave the office. 

Larma waited at the door while Rey saved her work, shut down her computer, and gathered her bag. “It’s funny you say that, Larma--I always thought _you_ slept here,” she joked as the two women rode down in the elevator. 

“Someone’s got to turn out the lights,” Larma joked back, then turned serious. “Congratulations, Rey. You’ve earned this and you deserve it.”

Rey managed to smile back and wish her boss goodnight as she left the elevator.

*******

Once Kylo was behind the bar at Snoke’s, he’d gotten himself together after watching out the tinted windows for a little bit. He was stupid to think she might walk by or even through the front doors. 

Luckily, he had something to keep himself busy in the early pre-happy hour period. He reached down into his bag and pulled out a small bag which contained a stack of creamy paper, then set himself to work. 

He actually liked Phasma, so he’d rebuffed any offer of payment for his services. Fifty handwritten wedding invitations were really no big deal for him, and honestly, he enjoyed the practice. He didn’t get to do enough calligraphy these days and was happy at the chance to keep his skills in good order.

Snoke’s Chief Operating Officer and her fiancée were a comically odd couple. Phasma was a cool-mannered blonde Amazon, just about Kylo’s height. Phasma’s fiancée, on the other hand, was at least a full foot shorter, tawny-skinned, curvy, and ready with an impassioned opinion about anything from today’s news to tonight’s bad prime-time television.

Kylo worked quickly and efficiently, rendering Phasma’s chosen text in elegant swoops and curves. The repetition relaxed him, sending him into a meditative space. 

He finished several before it was time for him to begin setting out the big trays of happy hour refreshments and tending to the desperate drink orders of people who were celebrating their daily freedom from their own jobs.

Not for the first time, he actually envied the people who came in bitching about their bosses, suits wilted after hours of playing the game. Kylo knew that pushing paper would annoy the shit out of him, but at least he’d be able to leave it behind him and drown it in a beer when five o’clock rolled around.

*******

Rey stepped out onto the pavement of Madine Avenue after parting with Larma, and she didn’t really know what to do with herself. She could have walked the couple blocks to Snoke’s and maybe met up with Kylo to collect on that champagne--if there was ever a day for champagne, it was today. But she wasn’t exactly in the mood for a bar, especially one that she knew would be chaotic at happy hour.

What she wanted was to share her triumph quietly with someone she knew would care about it. So, she walked down into the Madine Avenue subway station. Even underground, her cell reception was cooperating with her--yet another sign that the universe was on her side today--so she used her waiting time to send off a group email to Finn, Rose, and Poe, giving them her news. She didn’t think they’d spoil the surprise. They were halfway around the world from her--Finn and Rose working in the Peace Corps in Liberia, Poe flying planes in Afghanistan. 

She’d told her best friends, but also, Rey wanted her adoptive father to know. She’d silently sent her hope into the sky before she’d even descended into the subway. Bail Antilles should know that his daughter had finally made it. The years of education he’d paid for and encouraged deserved this punctuation, didn’t they?

Bail had lived long enough to see her complete her BSc at University College London and her MS at Coruscant U. He’d sent her flowers when she accepted the job offer from Holdo, D’Acy. Not long after that, Bail’s health had begun to decline quickly. Though Rey felt that she was good at putting up a falsely cheerful facade, those who knew her saw through it quickly.

Amilyn had come to her after noticing the poorly-concealed worry on Rey’s face each time her phone rang. 

Her face pale and tired under her makeup, Rey had explained to her boss that across the ocean, her father was very ill and didn’t have long. Looking pinched and sad, Rey said she understood that she couldn’t dream of asking for time off when she’d just started a new job.

Amilyn’s manner had been brisk, but compassionate. In the short time she’d known Rey, she’d learned that the younger woman hated nothing more than being pitied. So she didn’t. Instead, she informed Rey matter-of-factly that she should expect a call from the firm’s travel agency within the hour, that a flight would be arranged for her, and that she would have all the paid leave she needed.

Rey’s eyes had filled, and she’d impulsively embraced her boss. Amilyn was surprised by the sudden hug, but glad for it, too, as it gave her enough time to get her own suspiciously shiny eyes under control.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my dear reading team, [situation_normal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/situation_normal) and [Flawless_Sorcerer_Supreme.](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flawless_Sorcerer_Supreme)
> 
>  
> 
> [Come say hello!](https://calledalaska.tumblr.com)


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